Tryouts For The Basketball Sekiro High Team - Part3(final)

The coach calls everyone to announce the teams for the friendly match that would decide who would be on the reserve team.

"Alright, listen up," Coach Yamamoto began, his voice cutting through the chatter. "I've divided you into two teams. Team A: Akira, Tatsu, Yuto, Haruto, and Takumi. Team B: Renji, Kenta, Jinichi, Noriaki, and Kazuya. Akira, you'll captain Team A. Renji, you're leading Team B."

Interesting. The coach put me up against Renji and Kenta. I hope he doesn't expect this to be a difficult game.

Akira gathered his team in a huddle, glancing at each of them. They looked back at him, some with excitement, others with uncertainty.

"Alright," Akira started, "what does everyone do best here?"

A heavy silence followed, the kind that made Akira's stomach twist. How am I going to get anything out of these guys?

He pointed to Yuto, the tall boy with bangs that completely hid his eyes.

"You're tall."

"Y-Yes…" Yuto stammered.

"You're going to be our center," Akira decided. No objections. Good.

He then looked at Haruto and Takumi.

"Whoever has hit the most shots will be our Small Forward, and the second-best is Power Forward."

Both boys nodded, though their faces showed they weren't entirely confident.

"Tatsu," Akira said, turning to the nervous boy at the edge of the group, "you hit some passes, right?"

"A few…" Tatsu admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You'll be our Shooting Guard."

I'm going to have to organize this team from scratch.

"I'll be the Point Guard," Akira continued, his tone more assertive now. "Haruto, Takumi, whenever I look at you, you're going to infiltrate. Just worry about running to a place where you can shoot."

Tatsu shifted uncomfortably. "And me?"

"If I get free, I'll shoot, but if I pass and run, I want it back. Got it?"

"Okay…" Tatsu mumbled, still unsure.

I used robotic tactics without variation, but without time to train, this will be enough.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. Akira's mind focused, blocking out everything but the court and his team.

The ball was inbounded, and Akira immediately took control, his dribbling a blur as he wove through Team B's defense. His movements were sharp, precise, and impossible to predict. He spotted Haruto breaking free and sent a perfect pass his way. Haruto caught it and, following Akira's earlier instructions, launched a shot. The ball sailed through the air and swished cleanly through the net.

"Nice one!" Akira called, flashing Haruto a quick smile.

On the other end, Kenta barreled his way down the court, a force of nature with the ball in his hands. Takumi stepped up to defend him, but it was like trying to stop a freight train. Kenta powered through, finishing with a thunderous layup.

Damn, that guy's strong. He's got the raw power, but his footwork is too predictable. I can use that against him.

Renji took over for Team B, his dribbling as fluid as water, slipping past defenders with ease. But Akira noticed something. Renji had a tendency to overcomplicate things, forcing shots when a simple pass could've done the job.

He's good, but he's trying too hard to be a hero. That'll cost him.

Kazuya, the boy with the sharp passing skills, was having a tough game. His shots kept bouncing off the rim, and his brilliant passes were wasted by teammates who couldn't finish. But Akira saw something in him—a spark of genius, buried beneath the bad luck.

This kid has potential. He just needs better teammates to bring it out.

At one point, Akira passed to Tatsu, who hesitated before grudgingly returning the ball. Akira's frustration boiled over when he saw Tatsu retreat to defense without even trying to follow up the play.

He's just… comfortable with being mediocre. It's like he's okay with just going through the motions.

The game wore on, and despite Tatsu's lackluster effort, Team A held a solid lead. But then, in a moment that pushed Akira over the edge, Tatsu received the ball wide open for a shot—and instead of taking it, he turned his back, casually tossing the ball towards the hoop.

What the hell was that?!

Akira stormed over to Tatsu on the next possession, shoving the ball at him in a dirty, sloppy pass that hit him square in the knee. Tatsu barely reacted, just giving Akira a blank stare before turning away as if nothing had happened.

That's it. I've had enough.

"What the fuck was that pass?! Can you at least be bothered about missing so many shots?" Akira snapped, his voice echoing through the gym.

Tatsu blinked, unfazed.

"Why so much stress? We're getting on your nerves."

"What did you call me?!" Akira grabbed Tatsu by the collar, his anger flaring like a wildfire.

A sharp whistle cut through the tension. "Stop it, Akira," Coach Yamamoto warned, his tone firm. "One more outburst, and you're off the team."

Akira froze, the coach's words dousing his anger like a cold shower. Damn, I went too far.

The game continued, and at one point, Akira found himself guarding Kazuya, who was preparing for a shot. Akira could easily block him, but he hesitated, he wanted Kazuya to stand out to join the team. Preferably in Tatsu's place, so he was willing to let him pitch. But Kazuya surprised him.

"Not like that," he muttered, frustration clear on his face.

What did he just say?

Kazuya made a miraculous pass, threading the ball through a gap in the defense and leaving Kenta wide open for a layup.

Akira's eyes widened in surprise. Kazuya looked him dead in the eye.

"Don't go easy on me. I can play basketball."

Then, without waiting for a response, Kazuya turned and sprinted back on defense.

Akira couldn't help but laugh.

That's what I'm talking about. This is the kind of person I want on my team.

The game ended with Team A winning by a large margin, but Akira's mind wasn't on the score. He was thinking about the players, the potential he'd seen, and the lessons learned.

As the final whistle blew, Coach Yamamoto gathered the players. "Great effort today, everyone. The results will be posted tomorrow. Rest up."

Akira walked off the court, a grin on his face. He wasn't just building a team—he was finding the pieces that would help him dominate. And he had a feeling this was only the beginning.